


Diana and Her Hounds

by misura



Category: Lymond Chronicles - Dorothy Dunnett
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-17 13:45:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13078113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Will Scott was a man in love and not the least pleased about it.





	Diana and Her Hounds

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anilad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anilad/gifts).



Will Scott was a man in love and not the least pleased about it.

From the moment when Lymond had first outlined his madcap plan, Will had known that he would be made to suffer, and suffer greatly, for Lymond did few things by half. That Will felt he had done nothing deserving punishment mattered little; that he might have preferred to face ten brawny Englishmen naked, unarmed and with one hand tied behind his back, less.

Lymond had decreed Will would be a man in love, and so a man in love Will would be.

"Smile, my sweet," sang the object of his affection, the apple of his eye. The well from which sprung the entirety of his happiness on this earth.

It was Lymond, of course, but a Lymond so disguised as to be unrecognizable even to one who might think to look for him. The sight should have cheered Will. That it had consistently failed to do so only added to Will's general disgust with his current situation.

Wearing a wig and sporting a foreign accent, a man might take on the aspect of, say, a don fresh from Spain, and find willing ears and open doors where otherwise he might have found neither.

Putting on a dress while taking care to fill spaces nature had seen fit to leave empty, a man might turn himself into a companion fit for a young man of noble birth to worship, or at least gaze at with a certain amount of affection and appreciation.

Will experienced precious little of the former and none at all of the latter. His smile, when he summoned it, was a wry and sullen thing, fit for a farmer about to pay his taxes.

"Your preferences run to brunettes? A pity, but one must make do," said Lymond.

"As it happens, I like blondes perfectly well," replied Will, which was true in the sense that when it came to girls, it was seldom their coloring that snagged his attention.

"And why should you not? Crowned by the golden light of dawn, and yet, my Marigold, the long face! The suffering sighs! One would think I had told you to hang up your shield and become an actor, rather than to play a part so well suited to your natural inclinations."

Unable to help himself, Will scowled. "And what would you know of my natural inclinations?"

A weak feint, and Lymond brushed it aside as such. "We might fit you with a mask, one supposes, but what a spectacle that would be. A shy beauty, unwilling to speak, accompanied by a masked rascal of uncertain quality. Speculation would run rampant, and not at all in a direction favorable to our intentions. Make more of an effort, I implore you."

"You look like a woman!" burst out Will. "Pray excuse me for finding the experience somewhat strange!"

"You kept your head well enough when I made my appearance as a Spanish gentleman," said Lymond. "With far less warning, as well. Come now, you have seen women before, surely."

"I dare say I have seen more women than I have seen Spanish gentlemen," returned Will.

"Then what is this problem that makes you feel that I would not be wholly justified in losing both my temper and my patience with you, my courage?"

Will's problem was, in essence, that under normal circumstances, he might look at Lymond and see a man, albeit a brilliant and dangerous one. These were not normal circumstances.

He felt ill at ease with a Lymond who made eyes at him. Telling himself Lymond was only teasing, possibly even only acting, did not help. Will had not grown up a sheltered violet, but this particular game was somewhat outside of his experience - as it would be for most men, he suspected.

"If the disguise is too convincing, that should make your pretense all the easier. If it is not, pray point out the flaws so that we may correct them. It would hardly do to get caught too early, after all."

"The disguise is fine," said Will, reluctant to be drawn out further.

"Excellent. Kiss me, then," said Lymond.

Will recoiled. "I will not."

"If it is that I am plain, merely imagine that I am rich."

"It is not that," declared Will, closing his mouth on the addition that even disguised as a woman, Lymond was as far from plain as it was possible for any man or woman to be.

Until today though, Lymond's beauty had seemed a distant, untouchable thing. Lymond was beautiful in the way of the sun, the moon and the stars, safely out of mortal reach.

The notion that Lymond might be touched after all, provided he put on a dress and a pretense of fondness, came as an unwelcome surprise. Will disliked what it implied about himself and his feelings for Lymond, which before, he had been able to view as simple admiration.

On some level, of course, he was aware that stronger terms might be called for, but with Lymond safely distant, the distinction had been irrelevant. What matter, whether the man who stripped away Will's pride using naught but his tongue was one Will admired or one he would willingly suffer worse abuse from, in exchange for a handful of kind words?

What matter, if on some days Will wished to see him dead or worse? If he looked at Lymond sometimes with murder in his heart? None of that made the least difference. Lymond was Lymond. Nothing Will thought or felt would make the least change to that.

"Kissing a beautiful woman is no different from kissing a plain one, my shy flower. It requires an effort of the lips, the mouth. There is hardly anything to it at all," said Lymond.

"I do not see the need," said Will. "I shall play the part of suitor with conviction. That should satisfy you."

"I have given you an order. You might be less concerned with my satisfaction and more with your position, although I shall grant you that in general terms, I consider it quite satisfying to be obeyed with promptness and without question. Mind, neither seem achievable at this point, so you might be forced to settle for simple, if belated obedience."

Will made an effort to hold himself back, although he was not sure what he might have done had he not. Kissing Lymond would make a mockery of his earlier protests; hitting him would see him punished, humiliated and made a fool of.

"A woman who speaks may bring in her trail a sullen suitor, rendered quiet by her chattering. A woman who is silent needs a man to speak for her. I imagine we might change roles. It is later than I would like, and we shall need to find a dress better suited to your coloring, but these things can be done. You may scowl and sulk all you want, then. I shall be pitied and sympathized, cutting a tragic but familiar figure. Well? What say you now, my Melusine?"

"I am not going to wear a dress," said Will. It was one thing to be known to keep company with a traitor and a rogue. It was quite another to hear, until the end of his days, that he had once dressed himself up as a woman.

"For a few seconds more, you have a choice," said Lymond. "Waste them, and you will find how deeply you may regret turning down the offer of a kiss, or the warm, easy comfort of a dress."

Will swallowed. Pride urged him to accept whatever Lymond might choose to mete out. Common sense reminded him how little point there was to standing against Lymond. Another man would be found to play Will's part, to be gazed at adoringly by Lymond and to talk his way past the guards.

Lymond might or might not put their acting abilities to the same test as he had Will's. It mattered little. As Lymond had said, there was hardly anything to it. If it was considered a sin for a man to kiss another, it would only add to the count of sins Lymond and his band had already committed.

Better, surely, to have been the one to have committed that sin than to have passed on the opportunity to another, who might damn his soul by it.

Will, at least, might in honesty say that he had wanted it.

"Fine," he said. "I choose the kiss. You are welcome to the dress."

"A wise choice," said Lymond. "And yet I am still waiting."

Will meant for it to be quick, obedient to the letter of Lymond's command, if not the spirit.

Lymond denied him, holding him in place until Will thought he might faint for want of air. His face felt flushed as Lymond released him, flashing him a grin that seemed to bode well for Lymond's mood the rest of the day, for no reason Will could discern. He felt dizzy, light-headed.

"Kiss a woman like that, and there are few things you might not talk her into doing for you, later," said Lymond. "Consider it my modest contribution to your general education."

"Do you want me to practice on the way?" dared Will.

Lymond laughed. "Why not? If nothing else, it will spare me your conversation."


End file.
